Free The Jewel of His Collection by Fae Mallory Page A

describing the exhibit, presenting it as a must-see experience that had the potential to revitalize not just the museum, but Owensport itself. Violet felt herself blushing as she read his flattering words about her “creative flair” and “stunning wealth of knowledge.” Ian, on the other hand, barely rated a mention as the paintings’ actual owner, and the article somehow gave the impression that she’d gone ten rounds with a dragon to obtain the paintings for the museum.
    With the unprecedented crowd, she didn’t have time to text Paul to thank him for the write-up until she was done for the day. With her nightgown on and her aching feet curled beneath her, Violet pulled out her phone and typed, “I really enjoyed your article. Thanks for the publicity!”
    His reply came promptly. “You made it easy. It’s an awesome exhibit. I think you’re going to get lots of attention.”
    “We already are. We had more visitors today than we do most months!” She smiled at the thought of it. A number of their visitors had simply checked out the Madden gallery before leaving, but the majority had gone through the entire museum, and she’d made a point of eavesdropping on them as they left to see which displays had made the most impression. It was unlikely that she’d be able to convince Ian to part with more of his collection, but if she could build on the museum’s current strengths, she might not need them.
    “That calls for a celebration! Why don’t we do brunch Sunday, not just coffee?” Paul’s suggestion brought Violet up short.
    “I’d like that,” she texted back, swallowing down her misgivings. Brunch was more of time commitment than coffee, meaning that she’d have to come up with enough interesting things to say to fill at least an hour and a half. Spending all that time on the museum would bore the poor man to tears, but she couldn’t think of anything else in her life worth talking about. She doubted he was interested in hearing about her latest self-help book.
    “Great! We can swap high school horror stories. Did you have Mr. Phipp? The typing teacher?” Violet laughed as long-forgotten memories of a slight man with a collection of hideous ties and even worse jokes swamped her. She’d worried for nothing. She and Paul would have plenty to talk about.
    “I sure did. Do you remember that joke he told about the rabbits?” Chuckling to herself, Violet tried to remember the joke well enough to tell Paul, the pair of them trading stories about their teachers and classmates until Violet looked up and realized they’d been chatting for the past hour. Yes, brunch would be fine.
    Curled up in her bed that night, she gazed up at the ceiling, marveling at how much her life had changed in just a few weeks. The museum was coming back to life. Instead of worrying about how she was going to pay the bills, now she had the luxury of trying to figure out which improvements she wanted to make first, and her mind raced with the possibilities.
    In addition to the museum, there was Paul, a genuinely nice guy who seemed interested in her. Men had been a nonevent in Violet’s life for the past several years, so the fact that she had a date seemed only slightly less unbelievable than suddenly being able to pay the museum’s bills. Her mother had been making noise about grandchildren for ages—Violet’s two nieces were apparently not enough to satisfy her—and hearing that her younger daughter was actually making an effort with men would put her over the moon. Her parents had never forgiven her for deciding to pursue art instead of a more practical career, but Violet was certainly that the promise of a few more grandchildren would heal the rift between them.
    As Violet snuggled in to sleep, it wasn’t Paul’s face that she saw in the darkness. Instead, she could almost feel the weight of intense green eyes watching her, and she stirred, stretching her arms over her head in reaction to that imagined